


Scared of the Dark

by allourheroes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Sequel, extremely mild sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 12:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4521918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allourheroes/pseuds/allourheroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky has second thoughts about having Sam so close--about <i>risking</i> Sam.</p><p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1424740">Partners</a> / <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1478854">Goodnight</a> by OrianPrime92 / <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1487767">A Safer Place to Land</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Scared of the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the majority of this right after the last one...in April of last year. I just never finished it. Whoops.

Bucky rolls his hips and Sam’s breath catches.

An hour ago, they weren’t on speaking terms. Three days ago, Bucky had tried to end this thing they had going on. He was having one of his more unstable days. Stark knew the Winter Soldier killed his parents and when Bucky’s head put it all together, he kind of freaked out.

Sam wanted to be there for him. It had been two weeks since that thing in the coffee shop and although they’d been taking things slow, Sam and Bucky had talked. A lot, actually. Then, frustrated with himself, Bucky told him, “It’s better for you to stay away from me.”

Sam had looked at him, had held his hand. “What if I don’t want to? Come on, I thought--“

“I remember kicking you off that building and hoping it was the end for you.” His hair had fallen in front of his eyes, but Sam could still see him.

“So?”

“You shouldn't be around me.”

“Bucky--“

“No.” Bucky looked up then, looked fierce. “You _can’t_ be around me.”

“It’s cool, man,” Sam tried to say, tried to calm him.

“You can’t. I can’t.” Bucky’s head was down, staring at his hands. They were clutched together but Sam guessed the human one would be shaking otherwise.

Sam swallowed, “You can’t what?”

Bucky didn’t answer. Sam hadn’t needed him to.

Sam had headed back to DC after that. He went on with his life, immediately delved into a few social work cases now that he wasn't otherwise distracted. Bosses could be fairly lenient if you helped Captain America save the world and spent your free time hanging out with Avengers.

He’s with a vet when he gets the call. It’s not Steve, like he’d semi-expected, but Natasha, and she doesn’t fuck around.

“We need you to come back,” she says, brooking no argument, but Sam is sick to death of orders and ultimatums.

“Why?”

She huffs. “You know why.”

He gives the vet an apologetic smile and she waves him off, looking down at her own phone. He figures she’s just being polite because him answering at all was _definitely_ rude. He takes a step into the hallway, leans back against the wall. 

“Something to do with Bucky,” Sam says. “What?” There’s a bite to his tone now. “Dude made it clear he doesn’t want to see me.”

He can practically hear Natasha roll her eyes. “And you feel the same.” There’s a sarcastic form of judgment and she continues, almost nonchalantly, “Then I’m sure it’ll be of no interest to you that he’s locked himself in your room here in the tower and refuses to talk to any of us.”

“Great. I was sure you were gonna say he’s gone missing.” That’s what Bucky had done last time he left, after all--disappear and search him down.

Natasha is silent for a minute.

“You still there?” Sam checks his phone to see that the call is still connected, waits.

“I think he wanted to though. To go find you again.” Sam swallows. “He didn’t say anything, but I think he would’ve if he hadn’t started this.”

Sam feels an emotion he can’t quite describe. “How much did he tell you?”

“It wasn’t hard to guess.”

It’s not quite an answer, but Sam accepts it. “What do you want me to do about him?”

“Take him to a ball game, buy him some peanuts and crackerjacks.” Her deadpan sarcasm is something Sam both hates and appreciates.

“My boss is gonna be pissed if I leave again now, Nat. People are counting on me.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve already made the calls. A quinjet is on its way so you birds can fly north.”

It’s her way of saying she sent Clint and Sam is at least glad it isn’t one of the others. “Why do you assume I’m coming back at all?”

“Because you’re the kind of man who lets his heart rule his mind when the right person asks him.”

This is how Sam ends up back in New York within an hour and a half--the quinjet is _fast_ \--having apologized profusely to the woman he’d been seeing. She had told him she understood, holding up her phone to show him a message from Natasha. How the Black Widow had done this, Sam doesn’t quite know.

The way over had been filled with Hawkeye asking Sam the questions he didn't have answers for--none he was willing to give to Clint, anyway. Luckily, Clint had left him alone once they were in the tower.

He considered knocking on the door, but decided against it. It is _his_ room, after all. He hesitates in the doorway anyway.

“Hey.”

Nothing.

“Come on, man. Talk to me,” Sam tries again.

Still nothing.

“Why my room?”

“It’s stupid... I wanna be near you, but...I can’t.”

“Yes,” Sam insists, “you can.” He eyes Bucky, looking for any sign the guy might react badly, but it seems safe enough to sit down beside him on the bed. “Just talk to me, man.”

Bucky stares at the wall for a moment, his jaw tenses. The whisper that comes next isn't what Sam expects. “Smells like you in here.”

Sam purses his lips, shrugs. “I guess it would. I mean, it’s _my_ room, pretty much.” He attempts a smile and nudges Bucky’s shoulder with his own. “So, what do I smell like? Or do I not wanna know?”

Bucky’s brows furrow, “Sweat and soap and...” He shakes his head. “Just...you.”

“Hmmm.” Sam risks reaching for Bucky’s hand, he’s sitting on the other man’s left so it’s metal he finds, but that doesn’t stop him.

Bucky looks at their hands. “I’ve hurt a lot of people.”

“Wasn’t you,” Sam says.

Bucky laughs. “Wasn’t it though?”

Sam is about to tell him no, but Bucky is kissing him then. It isn’t like any they’d shared previously.

It’s fast and hard and wet and desperate and Sam tries to put his reassurances into it, holds his free hand over Bucky’s heart.

The kiss doesn’t break until Bucky feels Sam wince and realizes his metal hand is crushing Sam’s. He lets go quickly and watches Sam flex his fingers carefully.

“I’m fine,” Sam assures. A hand still rests on Bucky’s chest.

“Yeah, well.” Bucky purses his lips. “Maybe I’m not. Maybe I don’t wanna be the guy that hurts everyone--even accidentally.” His metal hand clenches. “This...thing. It’s all weapon. I’m all weapon. ’Least where it counts.”

Sam waits until Bucky looks at him, very purposefully glances down at his own hand once Bucky does. He presses against Bucky’s chest. “ _This_ is what counts, Buck. You got a good heart under there, I’m sure of it.”

“I’m not,” Bucky repeats. He inhales, holds his breath, lets it out slowly. “I don’t remember everything. I don’t _want_ to remember...but...but I feel like I owe it to them. To all those people I killed.”

“Bucky.” Sam settles in closer. “I don’t remember every person I-- It’s alright, man. You can’t change the past. You just gotta accept it and move on. If you wanna make up for what they made you do, you can’t just...sit in my room wallowing. You got a good heart,” he says again. “You just gotta prove it to yourself.”

Bucky just stares at the wall a minute. “Yeah... Maybe you’re right.” He shifts, kisses Sam. When Sam starts to respond, Bucky pulls Sam on top of him.

Sam’s tongue slides against Bucky’s, he bites Bucky’s lip, he kisses him until he has to break apart, gasp as Bucky grinds against him. “I hope you’re not expecting me to stay away,” he murmurs, smirking at Bucky now.

Bucky shrugs--at least, as best he can under Sam. “Guess not,” he replies, wrapping his metal arm around Sam’s back. His human hand finds its way to Sam’s ass and grips it, gives himself better friction as thrusts against Sam through their clothes.

Bucky rolls his hips and Sam’s breath catches.

“Good,” Sam agrees, returns the favor.


End file.
